What Goes Down Comes Up* - L.

One of our dogs has an extraordinarily sensitive stomach. Few foods outside her normal dog food (prescription food, of course) go down and stay down. Stray cheetos, the random pizza crust, a piece of hamburger dropped by a toddler. . .all are automatic barf primers. This also includes all the random things dogs get into while outside--leaves, grass, dead bugs, poop, birdseed. . .you get the picture. She's a Zantac-popping regular regurgitator.

Lately, she's been on a grass-eating kick. Don't know why--she does this sometimes. So does her doofus cousin, but his stomach is a lot more cast-iron than hers. This past week, thanks to the grazing, we have gone into the "Puke Upcoming!" drill no less than 3 times. We missed only once, and only because it was 2:00am and we couldn't find the barf towel fast enough in the dark. We've been yelling "No Grass!!!" at her if we catch her nibbling, sniffing, or even thinking about it while she's outside. She knows this command, believe me. We've had a lot of practice. But still, she waits until we're not looking.

Today continued the "No Grass!!" reminders. I'd had a very full day--very busy at work, plus Excel hell, plus I gave a pint at the bloodmobile after lunch. My long-suffering mate had mercifully put the kids in the tub, so I made myself a Cobb salad for dinner, periodically checking outside and yelling "No Grass!" every time she neared the weeds in the flower bed. Thoroughly frazzled, I finally called her inside and sat down in the study with my food and a glass of wine. Peace at last. I was halfway through my Cobb when I realized she was sitting squarely in front of me, staring unblinkingly. This wasn't the stare of hunger, or of hopefulness at a handout. It was a cold, disapproving stare of reproach. There was no mistaking it. Now, why on earth would this dog be looking at me so severely?

Then it dawned on me. I was eating grass.








*Props to Dave for the posting inspiration.